


Hell of a New Year

by Vae



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-09
Updated: 2012-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-18 07:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vae/pseuds/Vae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lin Kennedy hit New Orleans about a week after New Year 1995. He was twenty years old, broke, homeless, and high as a helium balloon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell of a New Year

Lin Kennedy hit New Orleans about a week after New Year 1995. He was twenty years old, broke, homeless, and high as a helium balloon.

First few days took care of themselves. Couple of nights in the cells took the edge off the high, but he wasn't carrying. Not a lot to prove against him, enough to get him a caution (which went in one ear, out the other before he was out the door) and his guitar back, then out on the streets. Took him a couple hours to find a girl to charm into giving him a bed for the rest of the week. Anything else would take care of itself when it came.

~~

He'd always thought that Mardi Gras was sometime in February, March, whatever. One day, maybe a week at most, but New Orleans taught him differently. Mardi Gras started on Twelfth Night - just before Lin had arrived. Made it easy to find work, anyway, plenty of places for a guy good with his hands who didn't mind doing whatever needed done to earn his way. Made it easy to find music, too. Most of the music was in bars, but Lin found the rest of it. Cafes, street corners, followed the sounds and learned. Listened, practised, found a good crowd. Places to lay his head, places to leave his guitar safe while he worked. Safe with folk that understood what it meant.

Night of his twenty-first, he celebrated in _style_. He'd started the day by getting fired when his temper flared in the wrong direction, and looked like his temper was going to finish the day the same way. Worked through the beers, moved onto whiskey, finally fucking legal and making the most of it, bourbon firing in his belly when he'd found himself in the middle of a fight. Not one he'd started, no sir, but when the blonde had landed against him, all long legs and smeared mascara, Lin caught her, which was enough for the guy laying claim to her to object to. Given the bruises on her face, and the anger on the neanderthal's, Lin hadn't felt inclined to give her back.

Ten minutes later, he was regretting that decision. The neanderthal had heavy fists and heavy friends. Barbie appeared to be one of them, shrieking insults at the top of her voice and apparently trying to pull his hair out by the roots every time Lin ducked away from those fists. Moment she finally let go, he was under a table, heading towards the doors until he came up against another body. Another blond, this time a guy, straggly hair half hiding a face with the kind of bone structure Lin recognized. "You mind?" he demanded. "I'm leavin'."

The blond flashed a grin. "Hell, yeah, I mind. You start this?"

"Me?" Jesus, none of Blondie's business if he had. "Shit, no, I just..."

"Got in the middle?" Blondie suggested, grin widening. "Cindy does that. Likes to get Jason riled up, says it gets him hotter in bed."

Lin paused. Then... "Cindy?"

Blondie nodded. "Yeah, Cindy. Why, what name'd she give you?"

Ignoring the sounds of the bar fight continuing across the room, Lin rolled onto his ass, wincing as his head collided with the table when he tried to sit up, laughter bubbling up through the ache, rich and whiskey-rough. "She didn't, I just..." He gestured in the direction of the noise. "Barbie."

Blondie looked entirely lost for a moment, then understanding dawned, teeth flashing white through the darkness as he laughed. "Fucking right, man."

~~

Morning came far too fucking soon for Lin's liking, red inside his eyelids enough to discourage him from wanting to open them. Seemed like his body was working against him, though, because his bladder was pretty damn insistent that he had to piss, and his stomach violently wanted rid of whatever was left. From the feel of his mouth, some of it had already escaped. Not where he was sleeping, though, thank Christ. Slitting one eye open very cautiously, Lin decided it was worth risking opening his eyes, and fuck pride, crawling. Standing up was a bad, bad plan. Moving wasn't a fun one, but nature didn't call, she damn well screamed.

Unfamiliar place, nothing new in that, save for the fact he didn't remember getting there. Could wait for later to be figured out. First was finding the bathroom, getting rid of everything left in his body, and then he tried for walking. Staggering, anyway, back into the main room to blink bleary eyes at what looked like a mug of coffee on the side by the sink. Black as sin, cold as death, but he drank it anyway, bitter and dark enough to drag the world back into focus. Not naked, right, good sign, probably, and a note on the side.

_Sleeping Beauty,_

_Couldn't wake you, heading out to school. Playing the Maple Leaf tonight, Rene's bringing your guitar._

_See you there,  
Carl_

Lin stared at the note a while longer, then shook his head. Then regretted it. Didn't have a damn clue who 'Carl' was, but he'd show at the Maple Leaf for his guitar.

~~

Lin had adjusted to New Orleans time pretty fast. Anyone playing a bar wouldn't be starting until near on midnight, gave him plenty of time to clear his head, wash, dress. Figured that 'Carl' would have a key, so he used the spare he found to lock up, pocketing it for delivery later in exchange for his guitar. By five, he'd sobered up, picked up a new job - bar work, this time, he was legal and the bar was desperate enough for anyone who knew one end of a bottle from the other - and started work. Serving behind a bar was harder than it looked, but kept Lin busy through eleven.

Everyone knew where the Maple Leaf was, but playing there on a Tuesday night didn't put Carl high up on their list. Early on a Tuesday night, too, since the sound of the voice heading from the corner of the bar brought memory back. Carl was Blondie. And Carl, it sounded, was a pretty polished musician. He made his way through the crowd to lean against the bar, quiet word with the bartender getting him a shot of JD, and whatever Carl was drinking. Looked like soda. Kind of smelled that way as well.

Carl was perched on a bar stool, small space around him enough to let him move to play. Wasn't the kind of music that got people dancing, but the sound wound its way into Lin's head, lingering as he noticed the way Carl curled over his guitar, head dipped to watch his fingers move on the neck, hair hanging down, one foot propped on a rung of the stool, the other tapping time on the floor. Not time - some kind of rhythm that tied in with the song. Not quite on the beat, not always, not even with the rhythm Carl's fingers were picking out, but something complementary that enhanced the harmonies that rough voice was crooning.

The set finished way too damn soon for Lin's liking, Carl's head rising, hair falling back to reveal the grin he remembered from last night, face flushed around it as he swapped some complicated handshake with the guy moving onto the stage, and then... Jesus. Lin would swear Carl hadn't looked up from his guitar once while he was playing, but now Carl was looking directly at Lin, heading towards him. "You came."

Lin shrugged, and pushed the drink towards Carl. "You got my guitar. School?"

Carl took the glass, drained it, then flashed that grin at Lin again, laughter as free as his music.


End file.
